She turned the matter over in her mind. Every word he had said, every threat he had made, occurred to her.
Would he make good his threat, and take vengeance upon the man she loved if she refused to raise one thousand dollars for him?
She knew he was what he had said—a desperate man.
Oh, if she had but dared creep into the library, throw herself at Eugene Mallard's feet, and tell him all, what woe would have been spared her. But, alas! she dared not.
Heaven help her! How could she leave Eugene Mallard, whom she loved better than life.
She crept up to her room, and during the long hours of the night she fought the fiercest battle that woman ever fought with herself. If she gave Royal Ainsley the money he had asked for, he would certainly go away and never cross her path again.
Her heart leaped at the thought. The thought that she was still bound to Royal Ainsley brought with it the most poignant grief—a feeling of horror.
She did realize what it meant to live there beneath that roof, even after she had found out the truth—that she was not Eugene Mallard's wife.
What harm was there in living in the home of the man she loved, seeing that they were so far apart in heart as well as in purpose?
"No, I can not tear myself away from the only one I have ever loved!" she cried. "If I were living here with Eugene Mallard as his wife, then my duty would be plain—I would have to leave here at once."